Don't Come Back At All
by Katuriin
Summary: A different take on Taz's past. Rated T for language.


**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN STARSHIP. OR TAZ. JUST THE PLOT.**

Hello. This is my first official Starship fanfiction. It's just a different take on Taz's past. I would love opinions. (:

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><p>Teenagers can't love. They aren't old enough to know what love feels like. Or- at least that's what they say. No, this isn't a love story, or at least in the traditional way. This is a story about a father and his daughter. Sounds sweet, right? It's not. I'm going to warn you ahead of time. This story doesn't have a happy ending. Well, actually, I guess it depends on how you look at things. It could be happy, in that bittersweet way. The daughter looks up to her father like he's the world, but the father wouldn't give her the time of day.<p>

Most teenagers have a role model- hers was her father. He was everything she ever wanted to be. Strong, successful, and some even said he was handsome. She wanted people to fear her- just like she feared her father. Just like her mother feared her father.

Funny- her father was the only person she ever feared.

Mr. Lopez watched his daughter through the storm door. She was speaking to that boy again. He didn't know the boy's name, he never asked. But, he didn't care. He looked like trash. And no daughter of his would associate with trash.

He opened the door in time to hear, "See you tomorrow, Taz!" and see that damned boy running down the street.

The girl turned with a smile on her face, her shoulder length black hair moving to her back as she did so. The same shoulder length hair that she begged many times to cut short. But her father simply protested, "It's already short enough, don't you think? You cut it any shorter and you'd look like a damned boy." So, she never brought it up again, she respected her father's words.

As the girl walked towards the house, her smile faded when she spotted her father. "_What _did he call you, Natasha?" She could smell the fresh whiskey on his breath.

"Nothing, Papa… It... It's just a name my friends call me… sometimes…" she mumbled, looking at the grass as if it would help her out.

Her father narrowed his eyes, "No. Your name is not _Taz. _It's _Natasha. _Do you want to be a fucking boy? Wanting to cut your damn hair short… wanting to be called a boy's name. Your mother had a fucking girl, Natasha."

She was about to protest, convince her father that Taz was a girl name, and short hair would not make her look like a boy, but she knew better and held her tongue. She simply muttered, "Yes sir," and walked into the house.

When she got in her mother was sitting on the couch, she stood, speaking up, "Honey, don't you think you should let her little friends call her by her nickname? I mean, you don't have to use it. And it's not hurting anyone."

The man looked angrily at his wife. So angrily, in fact, that if one didn't know better, they'd say she flinched slightly. "No. What the hell is wrong with you?" he hissed. "Next thing you know, you'll be saying it's okay for her to be hanging out with that trash guy friend of hers."

Her mother started shyly, "Well, he's not too-"

He cut her off, "And what the fuck would you know about trash?"

The young girl began to inch away, knowing that this argument would not end well. And if she couldn't protect her mother from his wrath, she'd try to protect herself.

Her mother looked just as angry by now, stepping closer to him. "Well, for one, I married you."

In a rage, he picked up the empty whiskey bottle from the table, tossing it across the room.

However, the girl didn't know if it hit his intended mark, she was in her room by now. Tears silently falling from her eyes, she locked her door. "I'm sorry, Mama..." she whispered, closing her brown eyes for a moment. She lay down on her bed, turning her TV on. The TV brightly light the dark room, images flickering on the walls. The news was on, more news about the impending robot attacks. Showing clips of screaming people and burning cities. It was all horrible and everything, but robots would never attack Mexico so it didn't worry her. She began flipping through channels, drowning out the yelling in the next room until she was sure both parents were asleep- of course in different rooms. It was only then she dared turn off her TV, unlock her door, and close her eyes to sleep.

Her eyes flew open when she heard a beating at her door and her father calling her name. "Dammit, Natasha. You didn't clean up last night. You good for nothing…" the rest was drowned out because he was toying with the broken doorknob, trying to get into her room.

_Fuckfuckfuck… Has he been drinking this morning, too? _ She wondered as her door finally flew open. She'd know soon enough.

Her heart jumped to her throat when she saw his knife in his hand, "D-dad, what are you doing?"

Her father didn't say anything, just simply began to come closer with his drunken limp. She scrambled off her bed, running past him down the hall. "Mama!" she cried out, desperate for her protection.

She stopped short when she saw her mother unconscious on the floor. _Fuck. _She then turned, seeing her father now in front of her. Before she could react, he had her pushed violently against the wall, knocking the breath out of her.

She now heard her father's snores from the other room. She shakily pulled herself off the floor, looking herself over. She had a few scraps. She already began formulating stories for them. She saw red spots she knew would soon turn black or blue from bruising.

She looked in the direction of her father's room… if he tore their family apart like this- why did she look up to him so? She couldn't help it. She loved her father like any daughter would. He was her hero, but she couldn't quite pinpoint why. Maybe it was the fearless way he took what he wanted. Maybe it was his tough demeanor that she could begin to bet would scare even a robot itself- ones that felt no feelings.

She stood on shaky legs and began to clean up the broken glass and the items that had been thrown all about.

Her mother smiled brightly at the dress her daughter was wearing. "Isn't it just beautiful on you, dear?" she asked, clapping her hands together.

The girl examined herself in the mirror with distaste and a frown. "It's so… fluffy..." she said.

Her mother laughed, "Of course it is, Natasha. It's your _Quinceañera_ dress. "

She rolled her eyes, _Don't remind me. _She was not looking forward to her coming of age party. She hated attention. She hated being in the spotlight. She hated everything about the idea of the party. But, of course, there was no way she could protest it. So she gave in to the dress.

It took her a good hour or so to make sure all of her bruises were covered up. She sighed, taking one last look at herself in the mirror. She turned and walked to her backyard, the place where the party was due to take place soon.

She smiled at all of the guests and humored all of them, ready for the party to be over.

She was now staring at her drink on the table she was sitting at. The drink inside began to shake slightly… then the shake got worse until she could feel it herself. She stood quickly, looking around. She saw panicking guests running around. Some pointing and screaming. She turned to see a mass of robots tearing through the neighborhood, and behind them she saw bellows of smoke. She backed up a few steps, unsure of what to do.

She then heard her mother's yell and she rushed towards it. She stumbled a few times, so she quickly ripped off her heels. She ran into their living room that was already mostly destroyed. Her eyes searched it wildly for her mother, spotting her in the kitchen, cornered by a robot about her father's height, maybe a little taller.

Without thinking, she jumped on the monstrosity's back, beating on it with her fists. The robot simply stopped for a moment, confused at first. It then picked up the young girl like a ragdoll and tossed her across the room where she hit the kitchen table with a force that caused it to splinter and break. The girl moaned, attempting to get up.

The robot turned back to the grown women, getting closer to her. "N-no! Mama!" She cried out weakly, again attempting to get up. The robot, ignoring the young girl's desperate cry, took out its built in laser and fired once. A blood-chilling screen rang out throughout the broken home, then nothing.

The girl's eyes filled with warm tears and they quickly fell. "Mama…" she said softly, looking at her mother's now scorned, limp body. Her heart began to race as the robot now turned to her. "Please… don't…" she whispered. Of course, she knew, robots had no feelings. No mercy. She closed her eyes, ready. Suddenly she heard a deranged sounding battle cry. She opened her eyes and saw her father running towards the beast with his knife. The same knife he came after her with a few days prior.

"You metal bastard, I'll kill you for messing with _mi familia." _He dug the knife throw it's robotic eye. It stopped, twitched a few times as the man twisted the knife around, then it blew up in front of him, hurling him backwards into a wall.

She watched it, wide eyed. After a few minutes she found the strength to crawl over to him. "Papa?" she asked softly, shaking the man. He didn't stir. Tears formed once again. "Papa?" she cried out louder, shaking him once more.

She heard a mechanical laughter behind her, she turned, seeing a different, much taller robot. "Puny humans and your attachments." He grabbed her by her hand, pulling her up. She didn't know what it planned on doing.

But, she never found out. As she squeezed her eyes shut and warm salt water tears continued to fall, a man came out of the rubble that was once her house, and all she heard was sounds similar to the one of the robot's laser. She fell to the ground, the robot falling beside her. She looked up to see her savior.

The older man smiled at her, offering a hand. "My name's Up. You've got a pretty dress there, girl. Well- at least it looked like it was at one time."

As she took his hand and stood, she looked down at herself. Her _Quinceañera _dress was tattered, blood stained, and torn. Despite herself, she chuckled a little, shaking her head.

"Anyway, girlie, what's your name?"

She didn't hear him at first. She was looking down at her father. When the robot blew up, the knife remained in his hand. She reached down and picked it up, examining it. She then looked at the man. She stood up straight, "Taz."

"Well, Taz, you're coming with me. I'm sorry we couldn't save your family, too… but at least we can get you somewhere safe."

She looked at her mother and father. _Mi familia._

"Well… I know you want to stay here and mourn… but it's not safe… maybe we can come back someday, let's go."

So she followed the strange man that saved her, walking away from everything she knew with a new found strength and courage.


End file.
